Odds and Ends
by AngelQueen
Summary: Various ideas that may or may not come to fruition at a later date. Chapter Six: The Potter Family Letters.
1. Time Travel AU, HGSS, character death

**Premise**: _Hermione is thrown back in time in an accident during the final battle at Hogwarts. Hoping to change things, she establishes herself at Hogwarts and slowly begins to change things. After becoming friends with Lily Evans, Hermione works with her to gently lead Severus away from the life of a Death Eater. However, along the way, Hermione and Severus fall in love. Though hesitant, Hermione marries him after their graduation, though only on the condition that he promises her to never join the war on either side. However, when Hermione discovers that she is pregnant in 1979, Severus becomes nervous and secretive. After months of trying to discover why, Gideon Prewett, a friend of Hermione's, finally apprises her of the situation._

**Notes**: I wrote this when I'd recently watched _Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith_, as you'll no doubt be able to tell. There are some clear differences, such as Gideon's supposed motivations, but many of the events of the movie rang true in these scenes. They've been sitting in my documents for a while, and I figured why not post them?

* * *

Hermione stared at Gideon, her lips pressed together tightly. After a moment, she shook her head. "I don't believe you," she said simply.

"Hermione," he replied, taking her hand in his own, "I wouldn't say such a thing if I didn't know it to be true. Severus has joined You-Know-Who."

Again, she shook her head, pulling her hand away from him. "No, that's not true. We are both neutral in this war," Hermione maintained, turning to sit down on the sofa, her left hand resting carefully on her swollen abdomen. "Severus gave me his word, as I gave him mine." _He promised,_ she thought. _He promised all of that was behind him._

Gideon, however, did not seem inclined to let it go. He followed her to the sofa and sat down next to her. "Hermione, listen to me. He may not be going on missions for You-Know-Who, but he has been providing Him with potions and information. He's spying on Dumbledore at Hogwarts."

"No." Did her voice waver?

"Yes," Gideon countered. "He hasn't taken the Dark Mark yet, but it's only a matter of time before he does."

Hermione felt herself beginning to tremble. She didn't like to admit it, even to herself, but Severus had been different lately, since she'd told him about the baby. Though he had crowed about it in his own, smirking way, he had seemed to grow somewhat secretive, vanishing into his lab to all hours of the night. It was the one place in the house she could not enter while she was pregnant, so she had no idea what he was up to.

"No." Her voice was little more than a whisper. "He promised me…"

Gideon's voice sounded so very far away now. "Hermione, listen to me: go to Dumbledore. He'll protect you and your child. No harm can befall you at Hogwarts."

Hermione couldn't restrain a snort. Gideon had no idea just how dangerous that school could be. Still, all she said aloud was, "Protect me from what? My own husband? Why would I need protection from him?" She forced herself to stand up, to distance herself from Gideon and his words.

"Hermione –"

She cut him off. "No, Gideon, you are wrong, and before you ask me, I will NOT tell you where he is. Please, go."

Silence reigned and Hermione knew he did not move from the sofa. She could feel his familiar brown gaze on her back. Then she heard him stand.

"Where did he get the Galleons to buy that necklace?" Gideon asked. Her hand automatically flew up to the white cat pendant. She remembered the utterly satisfied look on his face in the mirror that night, when he had put it around her neck, telling her of the large commission he had taken that had paid him extremely well.

He had not lied then. He had merely withheld the identity of who had given him that commission. Hermione's hand left the pendant to cover her mouth, stifling a whimper.

"I'm so sorry." Then he was gone and Hermione was alone with her thoughts.

* * *

It had taken Hermione nearly an hour to calm herself down. She had retreated to the bedroom after Gideon left the cottage, curling up on the bed and staring at the wall. She did not sleep, though. Instead, Hermione's mind raced over the events of the past several months, thinking of Severus' movements and behavior. Dread had swept through her. She did not want to believe that he would break so sacred a promise to her. So finally, she rousted herself and left the cottage, taking the quick trip through the Floo to Severus' laboratory.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?" he demanded, holding her close and keeping his body between her and the cauldrons.

She didn't mind his protectiveness. Instead, she squeezed his arms tightly, reassured by the contact. "I was worried," she said breathlessly. "Gideon stopped by today." Hermione watched his eyes darken a bit at the mention of the man's name, but she continued. "He told me terrible things."

"What?"

She stared at him. "That you'd joined Voldemort," she replied. "That you were spying on Dumbledore and providing him with potions." Hermione shook her head. "I told Gideon that was impossible, reminded him that you and I are neutral –"

To most people, Severus' expression did not even flicker, but to Hermione, there was a great change. Anger. Guilt. She froze.

_No…it's not… he wouldn't have…_

She backed away from him. "You didn't…" she breathed. "Gideon was wrong." The plea in her voice was palpable.

Severus didn't answer at first, his eyes lowered to the ground and his fists clenched at his side. After several moments, he looked up. "It was the only way, Hermione."

"_What?"_

"There is no neutrality where the Dark Lord is concerned," he told her. "If I did not join him, he would have handed you over to his minions to play with before he killed you."

Hermione clenched her teeth, her hand resting on her pregnant belly. "My fate," she growled, "is not his to decide."

"He would have found a way to make it so," Severus maintained.

"I don't believe this…" she said. "You gave me your word! Does that mean nothing to you?"

"It was for the best!"

Childish though it was, Hermione stomped her foot. "Bullocks! You should have told me he was threatening you. We could have gone abroad –"

"And when they found us again? What then?" Severus demanded. "Our fate would have been much, much worse. There is nothing to be gained from defying him except for an agonizing death, Hermione! I've saved you and our son! We need not ever fear again!"

She couldn't breathe, just stared at the fanatical gleam in his eyes. It was terrifying, seeing a look on his face that she had only ever seen on the ruined face of Bellatrix Lestrange in the Department of Mysteries, so long ago.

"I don't believe what I'm hearing," Hermione whispered, her voice trembling. "Gideon was right…"

He waved his hand negligently. "I don't want to hear about Gideon, Hermione. The man's worthless."

"He has been our friend for years!" she shouted, suddenly enraged.

Something in Severus' demeanor changed, but Hermione didn't study it as she normally would. She wanted nothing more than to slap him at the moment.

"Friend? Just a friend, Hermione?" he asked, sneering at her. "Or do I need to be concerned about the paternity of that baby in your womb?"

Now she did slap him. Hard. "How dare you –" She was cut off when he shoved her back. His wand appeared out of nowhere. "_Petrificus Totalus._"

She couldn't move, and the panic immediately began to set in. Severus knew that casting such harsh and invasive magic on her was dangerous at this point in the pregnancy, but he didn't seem to care now. He leaned close to her face and hissed, "Hear me now, wife. Behave yourself or you'll get us both killed. This is for your own good, so show a little gratitude, and I don't want to hear anymore about Gideon Prewett."

Pain began to blossom in her stomach, but Hermione couldn't cry out. Severus continued to lecture her, but she didn't pay him any attention. _Oh God, the baby…_

"Let her go, Severus!"

_Gideon._

Severus didn't reply, just stood there with his wand in hand, glaring alternately at her and Gideon.

"Let her go, now," Gideon growled. Hermione could see him out of the corner of her eye, striding toward them.

Several moments passed, the pain continuing to spread across her abdomen. Hermione couldn't even cry out. Then, with an unconscious snarl, Severus waved his wand at her. "_Finite Incantatem_."

It was as though she was a marionette whose strings had been abruptly cut. Boneless, Hermione slumped to the ground, and something exploded inside her. The spell had obviously muted the pain somewhat, but now it came on her in full force. Hermione could feel her belly contracting, could feel a kind of warmth spreading from between her legs. However, even with the agony she suffered, Hermione could still faintly hear the two men speaking.

Severus. "You turned her against me!"

Gideon. "You did that on your own, Severus."

A growl. "You may love her, Prewett, but she is _my_ wife. She will never be yours."

Under other circumstances, Hermione might have taken great offense at being spoken of as though she was a bone for them to fight over like two ravenous dogs. Now, though, she didn't care. She was fairly certain her water had broken, and the sharp pain that she continued to feel was even more terrifying now. _The baby…_

Neither of the men seemed to notice her predicament, however. As Hermione's perceptions grew faint and grey, she could hear her husband and friend firing off spells at one another.

_Severus… no… Gideon, stop…_

Then Hermione finally fell unconscious.

* * *

It was the pain that woke her again. Sobbing in distress, Hermione flailed her arms out, searching for something to grasp, something to take the pain away.

"Madam Snape! Calmly, dear, you're safe." That voice. Hermione knew that voice.

"Ma'm P'mfr'y," she slurred, struggling to open her eyes. "Wha…"

"You're at Hogwarts, dear," the mediwitch told her, leaning close. "Mr. Prewett brought you to us a few hours ago."

Hermione sucked in a great gasp of air. "Sev'rus?"

Madam Pomfrey's lips tightened a bit, but she said only, "He's alive, so far as we know." Hermione moaned a bit, but the mediwitch grasped her hand and continued. "Madam Snape, I need you to listen to me very carefully. The magical toxicity levels in your blood are extremely high. Mr. Prewett did not know how long you were under _Petrificus Totalus_. Your baby is under considerable distress. I need your permission to perform an emergency c-section to get the baby out. Hermione, do you understand me?"

_Severus, gone… baby… danger…_Still struggling to breathe clearly, Hermione managed a nod. Though Madam Pomfrey didn't say it out loud, she knew very well what her request meant. C-sections didn't happen often in the magical world, and only when there was only the faintest of hopes to keep the baby alive and no hope for the mother.

_I'm dying._ The thought terrified her. Hermione was under no illusions of bravery, former Gryffindor or not. So much depended on her, her husband, her child, the _timeline_! Nonetheless, she could do nothing but weather the pain that engulfed her body.

The next several minutes were quite hectic. Hermione was aware of Madam Pomfrey rushing to and fro, preparing the instruments she'd need for the procedure. She was distracted, however, when another figure appeared in her line of sight.

"Albus," Hermione breathed.

The headmaster sat down next to her and took her trembling hand, looking older than she'd ever seen. "Conserve your strength, my dear," he told her. "Your child will need you."

Her breath hitched and her eyesight grew blurry. "Severus… where…"

Albus did not have the opportunity to say anything, because at that moment Madam Pomfrey appeared at the foot of the bed. "Madam Snape," she said firmly. "I am ready to begin." Hermione only managed a slight nod.

What came next was so utterly painful that Hermione could barely comprehend that she was screaming and clutching Albus' hand in hers tightly. Her thoughts alternated between the baby squirming in her belly and the husband who should have been sitting where Albus was.

_Severus…_

The next minutes were a haze of confusion and pain, until suddenly Hermione felt something _torn_ away from her body. Hermione cried out, her back arching on the bed. What could possibly be worth this? She wondered.

A shrill cry pierced the air.

_That. That's worth it._

Madam Pomfrey appeared again in Hermione's line of sight, carrying a tiny, slimy, squirming _thing_ in her arms. The mediwitch stepped closer and leaned down close to Hermione's face.

"'Tis a girl, Madam Snape," Madam Pomfrey told her.

Hermione blinked. She and Severus had not asked healers about the gender of the baby, but he had been so certain… Her body began to convulse a little, and the other two adults looked at her in alarm. They relaxed slightly, however, when weak laughter bubbled out of her mouth, they relaxed.

"Severus was so sure," Hermione whispered. "So sure it was a boy…" Gathering what little strength she had, she reached up and brushed her fingers along the baby's chubby cheek. "Healthy?"

"Yes," Madam Pomfrey confirmed. "Quite healthy. Much more than I expected, given the circumstances."

Hermione barely heard her. "He was so sure," she breathed, continuing to stroke the baby's cheek. "But you're my baby girl, my Amelia Anne." It was then that strength gave out, and her arm dropped back to the bed. "Take care of her…"

She forced her eyes away from the baby, and back to Albus, whose face was even greyer than it had been before. Hermione forced herself to squeeze his hand. "Albus."

He leaned down to her. "Yes?"

"Beware… Pettigrew… help… Severus… still good in him… Lily… key… I know…"

That was all she could say. Her energy was gone. Hermione could only hope her words were enough. Though she had promised Severus to let things run their course, she could not feel any remorse at speaking. He had broken his word to her, broken their pact. She was free to do the same.

Why was it so dark now? She could barely see Albus' face any longer. Where was Amelia? Who would look after her baby? Severus was in no position to do so, not when he was known to at least to the Order of the Phoenix as a Death Eater.

So much left undone. Hermione could not be there to fix it. She could not stand against the whim of Time.

* * *

When Hermione's hand grew slack in his and her chest ceased to draw breath, Albus closed his eyes and bowed his head. She was gone. The young woman who had traveled through time was gone. Her words seared his mind.

_Beware of Pettigrew. Help Severus. Lily is the key. My dear, you do not ask much, do you?_

Multiple gasps from behind him distracted Albus from his thoughts. Turning his head, he saw Gideon Prewett, still covered in soot and scratched from his altercation with Severus. With him was Minerva, her face utterly white as she stared past him, as well as Lily, her hand covering her mouth as tears leaked from her green eyes.

"She's gone?" Gideon asked in a small voice. When Albus nodded tiredly, the grief vanished from the younger man's face to be replaced by rage. "I'll kill that son of a bitch!" He whirled around, his wand appearing in his hand, and moved toward the door.

"Hold Gideon!" Albus called firmly. There was much to be done, and he could not have Gideon rushing off to extract vengeance on Severus. Hermione's final wishes notwithstanding, Severus could still be of use to the war effort.

The younger man stopped and turned back, his brown eyes still blazing with hatred. _"He killed her!"_ Gideon roared. "Before my very eyes, he attacked her magically and held her immobile. He killed his own wife and child!"

"You are only half-correct, Mr. Prewett." Poppy, it seemed, had decided to step in. Albus watched her stride across the Infirmary, carrying a bundled pretty yellow blanket ever so carefully. She stopped next to Albus, and he gently took the swaddled baby into his arms.

"Madam Snape is dead, yes," Poppy continued, her voice cool and efficient. "Complications in childbirth. However, her daughter still lives."

Gideon stilled at those words, but Minerva and Lily inched forward. Both of them seemed to now avoid looking at the body behind Albus, and kept their eyes on the baby. Lily reached out and pressed her finger gently into one of the baby's tiny hands, which reflexively curled around it. "A girl?" she breathed.

"Yes," Albus answered. "Amelia Anne, I believe Hermione called her."

"She is beautiful," Minerva whispered. She then looked up. "What will become of her now, Albus?"

"That, Minerva," Albus answered tiredly, "is just one thing we have to determine this night." He turned to the mediwitch. "Poppy, if you could make the arrangements and inform St. Mungo's?"

Poppy nodded. "Where shall I direct them to take her?" she asked quietly.

"Nowhere," he said. "She will be buried here at Hogwarts, in the old cemetery."

All three women's eyes widened. "Albus, are you sure that's wise?" Minerva asked. "No one has been interred there in over three hundred years! It will undoubtedly be much talked of, even if it is for such a rising star in the academic world."

"The burial will be private," Albus stated. "Friends and colleagues only. I will deal with the press if they should attempt to come." The baby began to fuss slightly and he carefully shifted her in his arms, which caused her to go quiet again. He almost wondered if little Amelia Snape knew they were speaking of putting to rest the mother she had lost within minutes of her arrival in the wider world.

"Come," he said to them, "we will go to my office. There is much we must talk of."

* * *

September 1, 1991

* * *

The Sorting of 1991 was well underway and Albus could not help but feel nervous. He had been waiting for this day for years, and it had finally come. The pack of new students stood huddled together at the front of the Great Hall, just before the staff table, as Minerva summoned them forward one-by-one.

Several of the children in the group stood out. Albus could easily make out Ronald Weasley, Gideon and Fabian Prewett's youngest nephew, by the mop of messy red hair. There to the boy's left was Harry Potter, the one whom on all hopes would eventually lie. Albus was relieved to see the curiosity and kindness in the boy's eyes. Lily had raised him well, even without James by her side. Then there was the little girl near the front, the most familiar of them all, who was about to be called for her Sorting.

"Flamel, Amelia!"

Albus' goddaughter grinned happily as she nearly skipped up to the stool and sat down. The Sorting Hat covered her honey-colored curls, leaving everyone else to wait for the Hat's decision. Albus took the opportunity to glance down the table to his left.

Severus sat next to Quirinius, his customary scowl firmly in place as he stared down at the batch of new students. His dark eyes did not appear to linger on any one student, not even young Harry, which gave Albus hope. Perhaps Severus had grown enough to not take his old grudge against Sirius Black, the boy's godfather, and James Potter out on the boy. Perhaps more importantly, he did not appear to give Amelia any special attention. Expected, considering that as far as Severus was concerned, she was only the ward of Nicholas and Pernelle Flamel. A well-known child, to be sure, but he doubtless did not feel the need to gawk at the girl.

Albus had never told Severus that while Hermione had died, their child had lived. In the hours after Hermione had expired, he along with Gideon, Minerva, and the then-pregnant Lily, had conspired and planned for Amelia's future. Gideon had been adamant that the girl be kept away from her "murdering father," and even offered to take her in himself. Lily's cooler head had prevailed on him, however, stating that it would look rather suspicious if he was suddenly to appear to have a baby in tow. Minerva had agreed, stating that if anyone within the Order who did not have a family or was not pregnant took in the child, it would eventually get back to the wrong kinds of people.

That fact had left them with the need to find a family that was not involved in the war, and yet would not be attacked by Voldemort or his followers. There were few families who could fit that description. Almost none of them were in Britain, and few were in France or the Americas. Still, even though Albus trusted those few foreign families, he was unsure if they would have the strength to repel an all-out attack seeking to take little Amelia from them. There was, however, one family who could. Rather, a couple who could protect her. Thus, Albus had sent a message with Fawkes to Nicholas and Pernelle, requesting that they shelter the infant. Fortunately, they had agreed and Amelia swiftly left Britain, leaving them all to concentrate their energies on the war effort.

She left just in time. Some days after Hermione's funeral, Severus appeared at Hogwarts, a broken, and now Marked, man. By then, Lily had also been delivered of a healthy son, called Harry, and Severus had babbled about how Voldemort had come to believe that Lily's son was the boy spoken of in the prophecy, even to the exclusion of Neville Longbottom.

"_My wife is dead, along with our son," Severus said, his voice wooden. "It was my own stupidity and inability to control my temper that caused it. Now Lily is marked for death as well, because she bore Potter a boy who lived."_

_Albus stared at him. "What would you have me do? I cannot quell your conscience with false platitudes, young Severus. Hermione all but died in my arms."_

_The boy flinched at the mention of her name. "Hermione… is gone, but Lily was her closest friend. Protect her, protect her son, protect her husband if you must." Severus looked across the desk at him, his eyes devoid of all emotion. "Enough children have died on my account."_

Albus did not correct Severus' assumption over the death of his child. He recalled Hermione muttering something about Severus assuming that their child would be a boy, and had not even considered a girl. The young man was broken and regretful, yes, but he did not believe then that Severus was capable of bearing the responsibility that came with caring for a baby. That, and Albus had no desire to see Hermione's child laid at the feet of Voldemort for some obscene dark blessing. Let Amelia be raised among those who would love and treasure her. It was not a decision he had been wholly comfortable with, denying a father the right to raise his own child, but Albus had forced himself to make it nonetheless, for the girl's own well-being.

The war continued, and people continued dying, including Gideon and his brother, Fabian. Gideon had left all of his possessions to Amelia, but it was being held in trust until she was of age. The war ended only when the Potters were attacked before they could go into hiding. James had been killed when he and Lily had used a series of protection spells on their son that Hermione had begun developing and Lily had built on. James' death had been a catalyst that had left Lily and Harry to survive the attack, but it had also permitted Harry to be marked, just as the prophecy foretold. They were committed to the course ahead.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Applause broke out, jarring Albus from his thoughts. He turned his eyes back to Amelia in time to see her hop off the stool, turn to hand the Hat back to Minerva, and flash a bright smile in his direction before she joined her new housemates. Albus allowed himself a slight chuckle concerning his goddaughter's high spirits.

The next student – a Justin Finch-Fletchley – was sorted with relative ease, and then came the fourth and last student that had stood out remarkably in the pack of new children.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Albus gave Minerva credit for saying the young girl's name without her voice breaking. He glanced again at Severus, and saw a small flicker on the man's face, but nothing else. It was an expression that Albus had seen many times in the past, whenever someone had said Hermione's name in front of him. Albus knew that Hermione had never told Severus her real family name, but Severus was no one's fool. It was one thing to hide Amelia, Severus had never seen the girl nor had any reason to mark her existence. Hermione, on the other hand, was another story entirely. The girl in front of them was young, but she would grow up right in front of Severus. He was bound to see the resemblance.

Given the speculating gleam in the Potions Master's eye, Albus was fairly certain that the younger man would be visiting his office before the night was out, demanding answers.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Albus blinked, a little surprised, and tried not to laugh at the irony that was playing out before them. Amelia Anne Snape Flamel, the daughter of Severus and Hermione Snape, had been sorted into the same house as her biological mother _at the same time_.

The rest of the Sorting passed fairly quickly, Gryffindor gaining many other students such as Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, and Ronald Weasley. Minerva would certainly have her hands full with this set of year-mates.

After dismissing the children at the end of the Welcoming Feast, Albus turned to find Severus standing next to him, giving him a hard stare.

"Yes, Severus?" he asked, his voice innocent.

If anything, the younger man's glare intensified. "I would speak to you, Headmaster, before you retire for the evening."

"Of course," Albus agreed. "Would you like Minerva to join us?" His deputy still sat in her seat at his right hand, watching them both carefully.

"If she so wishes."

The journey to his office was spent in silence, though they could hear the distant echoes of the students in the other parts of the castle making their way to their common rooms. The gargoyle moved after Albus muttered his current password – peppermints – and the three rode the revolving staircase up to his office.

Severus barely waited until they were all seated before demanding, "Is it her? How can it be her?"

Albus stared at Severus and knew that now was not the time to dance around the subject. He sighed. "Yes, the girl was Hermione Granger. As for whether or not she is your wife, it is a matter of interpretation." Severus cocked his head questioningly, and Albus continued. "Genetically, your wife and Miss Granger are one in the same person. Technically, no, she is not. Hermione Snape was buried in the old Hogwarts cemetery over eleven years ago."

Severus flinched only slightly, and Minerva took up the conversation. "But did you not once speculate that the timeline would prevent two of them from existing at the same time?" she asked him.

"I thought as much might happen," Albus admitted, "but I was proven wrong when her name appeared on the list eleven years ago. I investigated, and found that Hermione Granger was a healthy child, and would undoubtedly join us at the appropriate time. It is possible that by the time Miss Granger was born, Madam Snape had evolved to the point that the magical differences between them were enough to permit both to exist in the same time stream."

"So, she is not my wife," Severus stated, standing up. "Good. I will not ruin her life again."

Minerva stayed behind when Severus departed for the dungeons soon after. She slumped slightly in her chair. "Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Amelia Flamel," she muttered. "Please, Hat, explain why you put all three of them in my house?"

The Sorting Hat had already returned to its customary place in Albus' office, and seemed to eye them both in exasperation. "Because that's where they belong, of course," the hat snapped irritably. "Though, I will admit that Misses Granger and Snape would both have done well in Ravenclaw, and Mr. Potter in Slytherin."

Albus stiffened slightly. "Please remember, Hat, not to use Amelia's birth name so cavalierly. It would not do to have it overheard by the wrong people."

"You mean the girl's father? Yes, I suppose that's true, from your point of view. But no matter. The three children are where they wish to be, and that is the end of it."


	2. Harry Potter, brother of the BWL, gen

**Premise:** _The beginning of an attempt to write a 'Harry's brother is thought to be the BWL' story. It didn't get very far._

* * *

October 31st, 1981 in Godric's Hollow, Wales was a tense night. The residents of the small village looked nervously out their windows, taking note of the ominous clouds rolling across the sky. They were not overly superstitious people, but many of them could not help but feel that something… dangerous lingered nearby on this night when the realms of the living and dead coincided so closely to one another. So they suppressed a shiver and closed their curtains, glad that trick-or-treating was over and done with and their children were safely tucked into bed for the night.

Then, around midnight, an enormous **BOOM** sent everyone jumping. Men rushed out of their houses barefoot, their wives following just a few steps behind as they threw on slippers and robes. Children sat up in bed, the younger ones crying for their parents and older ones scrambling for their younger siblings, wanting to cry for their parents but struggling to maintain their dignity in the face of their terror. People looked about wildly and quickly spotted the smoke in the distance. It took several moments, but eventually they recalled what lay in that area, the Potter place.

Oh yes, how could they have forgotten? The house was a tiny old lodge, recently renovated for the use of young James Potter, his pretty and intelligent wife, Lily, and those two adorable little boys of theirs, Harry and Harlan. Alarm began to spread through everyone. Some of the men began shouting, running toward the smoke while others ordered their wives inside, telling them to call the fire brigade.

When the men of Godric's Hollow arrived at the Potter home, they were horrified. The front door was blackened and twisted, swung inward in such a manner that it would probably never be able to move back into place again. Many of the window panes were cracked and shattered, and smoke billowed out of them.

The fire brigade lorry rang in the distance, signaling that their arrival was imminent. Still, some of the men approached the house anyway, keeping their heads low and away from the smoke. They shouted for Mr. and Mrs. Potter, sending up silent prayers that the young couple was still alive, as well as their two toddler sons.

Those prayers were answered when the men heard the sound of fast-paced footsteps. Within moments, James Potter appeared, his right arm dangling uselessly at his side and his left arm carefully holding one of his sons close to his body. Lily Potter followed just behind him, her face covered in soot and her eyes shimmering with tears as she carried the other boy.

The lorry arrived then and the fire fighters immediately set to work. Hooking up their hoses, they began to spray water through the windows and over the house, dousing the fire that was beginning to peak out at various spots. Meanwhile, the chief met the Potters and began seeing to their comfort, supported by the local townspeople.

It was then, the men of Godric's Hollow recalled, that things became fuzzy. They recalled the fire being put out and the statements given by the Potters, that of an electrical fire. They remembered that the Potters and the fire brigade left the area quickly, and that the Potters chose to take up residence in another house they had some distance away. There had been nothing suspicious about the incident to suggest foul play, but it had all wrapped up rather quickly. It was discussed among the residents of Godric's Hollow for a time and remembered long after, causing people to shudder just a little if they recalled the ill-boding feelings they'd had earlier that evening.

* * *

The Hogs' Head appeared deserted from the outside. The windows were covered, no light peeped out of any of them, and the battered 'Closed' sign hung on the door. Inside, however, the bar room was filled with many people.

The Order of the Phoenix had assembled. Aberforth Dumbledore stood behind his bar, cleaning glasses with a dirty towel methodically, but his blue eyes swept over the room repeatedly, piercing anyone who looked at him. Alastor Moody sat in a corner, watching people in a similar, scowling manner, checking the privacy and security wards around the bar every few minutes. Frank and Alice Longbottom sat at a table, looking thoroughly shaken. Their young son, Neville, was cuddled in his mother's lap. Many of the other members milled about in confusion.

In the center of the chaos, Albus Dumbledore sat with James, Lily, and the Potter twins, listening patiently as the two explained what had occurred at their home in Godric's Hollow. They explained that Sirius Black, James' dearest friend, had not been their Secret Keeprer, as they had led everyone to believe. Instead it was Peter Pettigrew, another childhood friend of James', who was thought to be the perfect decoy. That thought had nearly brought about their deaths, as Peter turned out to be the long-sought spy within the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix and had brought the Dark Lord Voldemort right to their home in Godric's Hollow.

James could only tell Albus that he had dueled Voldemort for a few minutes before being tossed aside and left unconscious on the sitting room floor with his arm broken. Lily, still trembling, told the older wizard of how she had rushed to the nursery where her sons lay sleeping, desperate to get them to safety. She had then found herself trapped there as Voldemort appeared before she could take the twins and leave. He had used his wand to Banish her out of his way when she had refused to move, causing her to hit her head. When she had awoken, however, it had not been to a deathly silence, but to the sound of two screaming babies and the smell of smoke. As she had stumbled to her feet, she had seen the body of Voldemort lying before the large crib containing Harry and Harlan. Lily had shouted for her husband and reached for the twins. She and James had managed to get out as the house had burned around them.

In the silence that reigned after the story finished, Albus leaned back and stroked his beard thoughtfully. Voldemort appeared to be gone, the prophecy fulfilled. Why, then, did he feel so disturbed, like the sword of death still hung over them?

He turned his gaze to the two Potter boys. Harlan sat in his father's lap, fast asleep, while Harry rested in his mother's arms, appearing half-awake, half-asleep. Harry, the older of the two, sported a jagged scar on his forehead that resembled a bolt of lightning. The younger Harlan also sported a scar, a simple, straight slash mark. One of these boys, Albus knew, had stopped Tom Riddle in his tracks when all others before him had failed.

Harry's scar seemed too messy in comparison to Harlan's, he noted. Harlan's scar seemed as though it had been cut with care, perhaps by Tom's wand itself, Albus wondered? Had Tom marked young Harlan with his wand of yew and phoenix feather before attempting to kill him? It fit the circumstances, not to mention the prophecy.

Albus Dumbledore was a humble man, but he also knew he contained a great deal of intelligence and analytical thinking. When he came to a conclusion, it was usual that he was right in it. Unfortunately, when he was wrong, he tended to be wrong on an infinitely large scale. This time, though, he did not consider that possibility. The war was over for the moment, and now everyone could get on with their lives.

Smiling in satisfaction, he reached out and gently swept his fingers over the head of the sleeping Harlan. "My friends," he stated, "I give you Harlan Charles Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived."

* * *

Six-year-old Harry Potter bounced excitedly as he waited with his brother Harlan and best friend Neville for his parents to appear. Their class had been assigned to paint a picture of their favorite place today during Art Time. Neville had drawn a place full of flowers, his mum's garden, and Harlan had drawn the field behind their home (leaving out the Quidditch hoops since it was a Muggle class). Harry, however, had painted the library of Potter Manor, where his father worked and managed the family businesses and accounts. His teacher, Miss Rutledge, had praised his work, saying that he was very talented in painting the books and the desk and chairs. Thus, he couldn't wait to show his dad his painting, hoping to give it to him to put on the bulletin board in the library.

Eventually, his dad pulled up in front of the school in the family car. Harry and Neville piled into the back seat while Harlan sat up front with Dad. Harry opened his mouth to tell his dad about his picture, but was beaten to speaking by his brother.

"Dad," Harlan exclaimed loudly, "can I play with my broom when we get home?"

James Potter replied, "Well, I don't know. Did Miss Rutledge give you a homework assignment?"

Harlan wrinkled his nose. "Just some alphabet stuff," he said. "And some number things too."

"Well then, you know the rules. Homework before you can play. Your mother would have a fit otherwise."

Harlan pouted but then changed the subject. Seeing that he would not have a chance to tell his father just then, Harry turned to Neville. The three of them attended the same primary school and everyday, one of Harry's parents would pick the three of them up, allowing Neville to come to their house for an afternoon snack before going home via the Floo to his dad. Neville lived with his dad in one of his family's homes. Harry wasn't sure what had happened to Neville's mum, since neither Neville nor anyone else would talk about her and he had long since stopped asking.

"Nev," Harry said, "I gotta show you this book I found in the library. It's got all these magical plants in it—"

"Harry," James cut in sternly, "you haven't been mentioning magical things at school, have you?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Dad."

"Good, because what's the rule?"

"Magical world is a secret," all three boys recited. They'd been over this so many times.


	3. Sanctuary, HP raised elsewhere, gen

**Premise:** _An AU where Harry vanished from Godric's Hollow before Hagrid and Sirius arrived there. Fourteen years later, when Voldemort has returned after the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Albus Dumbledore seeks the aid of an enriched, secluded community within Britain to join with the Order of the Phoenix in taking a stand against Voldemort and the Death Eaters. However, the leader of this community is not someone Dumbledore expected._

**Notes**: This plot bunny just kind of appeared in my head and refused to leave, so I ran with it as far as it would go, which wasn't long, apparently.

* * *

The long, winding tunnel in front of him was dimly lit, which would leave most people hesitant in their footing. However, Albus Dumbledore felt reasonably certain that the path in front of him was stable and walked with the same surety and confidence that the cloaked witch in front of him did. He eyed the woman's back carefully. He wasn't even aware of her name, to be honest. He did not recognize her voice or mannerisms from any student of Hogwarts that he could recall, and she did not seem inclined to take part in any small talk that would give away her identity or their current location.

Albus sighed inwardly. It had been a long, hard road to get to this tunnel. Ever since Tom Riddle's first attempt to return to a physical body by use of the Philosopher's Stone five years ago, he had begun the search for allies, knowing there would come a day when they would be needed. It had been then that some of his more sordid contacts had brought to his attention the existence of the inhabitants of a place called Sanctuary.

According to Albus's sources, no one knew of Sanctuary's location except those who lived there, and few people left the place except for those who sought to bring new people into the fold. The weak, the unprotected, the 'lost', one Mundungus Fletcher had told him. That was why so few werewolves were left in Britain, Albus believed. The only werewolves left at large in Magical Britain were Fenrir Greyback and his closest associates. The rest, including Remus Lupin, had all slowly vanished and although the Ministry believed they had all left the country, Albus had heard enough through various sources to believe that most of the werewolf population had vanished into Sanctuary. There were even other rumors of other disaffected members of Wizarding society vanishing into the hiding place as well.

It took power and brilliance to pull off something this enormous, Albus was very much aware of it. As he had become more and more convinced of Sanctuary's existence, he had begun to seek out people who could possibly put him into contact with the leaders of Sanctuary. It had proven difficult. The only way to communicate with the leaders of the hidden society was to initiate contact with one of their Seekers, as Albus called those who brought new members into Sanctuary, and they were disinclined to acquiesce to any request to speak with anyone other than their targets. Eventually, after nearly six months of messages, interceptions, and outright begging, Albus convinced one of the Seekers to present his request to an audience with his leaders. Or _her_ leaders. He hadn't been entirely sure whether the Seeker had been a man or lady.

The agreement to a meeting had been sent to him over a week ago, brought by a phoenix, of all things. It had been in and out of Albus's office so quickly that not even Fawkes had been able to get a good look at it. Nonetheless, the message gave him a time, a date, and a location to meet one of Sanctuary's people. When he had arrived at the location, though, he had been portkeyed several enclosed locations until finally he and his companion, who had turned out to be a woman, came to the tunnel. She had beckoned him to follow her and begun walking.

They finally came to a door and stopped. Albus watched his companion take out her wand and point it at the door. She muttered an incantation he was not familiar with and a shower of blue sparks shot out of her want and hit the door, which promptly popped open. He followed her in and found himself in another hallway, only this one was brightly lit and lined with a series of doors. She led him down several meters before stopping at a door on the left and knocking softly.

"Come in," a male voice called from inside.

She opened the door, but did not enter herself. Instead, she only motioned for Albus to enter. He did so, telling her, "Thank you, miss." He believed he saw her nod, but she did not reply.

Once inside the room, Albus quickly took in his new surroundings. It was an office, tastefully decorated with a few Muggle landscape paintings. The desk of medium size sat in the back half of the office, with several tables behind it and a chair in between. The back of the chair, however, was turned away from Albus, though he could see a head of dark hair over the top of it.

"I will be right with you."

"Of course," Albus replied, taking a seat in the chair on the other side of the desk. "Thank you for agreeing to this meeting."

There were several moments of silence punctuated only by the scratching of a quill. Then, the quill was placed back into its place and the chair turned. Taking in its occupant, Albus could not restrain a gasp.

The person sitting in the chair could not be any more than fifteen or sixteen years old, but that was not the only thing that shocked Albus. The boy had black hair that had the look of always being a mess, an oval-shaped face, and piercing green eyes. What was most astounding, though, was the lightning bolt-shaped scar in the center of his forehead.

After being missing for nearly fifteen years, Albus had found Harry James Potter.

* * *

  
Fourteen years earlier

Privet Drive, Surrey

* * *

Albus stood in front of Number Four, Privet Drive with Minerva McGonagall, wearily awaiting Hagrid's arrival. So much had happened in the past few days, with Tom's defeat at the Potter residence at Godric's Hollow, the deaths of James and Lily, and the hysterical jubilation of Magical Britain's citizens. While everyone else had been celebrating, though, Albus had been making preparations. Harry Potter might be the Boy-Who-Lived, the Savior, to those of the light, he was a target for any vengeful Death Eater looking to retaliate for Tom's death. The fact that people like Bellatrix LeStrange and her husband and brother-in-law were still at large did not escape him.

"Are you certain it is wise to entrust Hagrid with something of this importance?" Minerva asked him, looking uncertain.

"Ah, Minerva, I would trust Hagrid with my life," Albus assured her. He glanced again at the Muggle home. He readily admitted that he knew little of Petunia Dursley and her family other than what Lily had mentioned in passing over the years and none of it had been exactly a glowing report of a loving sister. Still, he could not imagine that Petunia would turn out her sister's orphaned child. She would protect him.

A strange sound interrupted any further thoughts and Albus looked up. A bright light was descending toward the road and even in the darkness, he recognized Hagrid's large, bulky frame.

Albus stepped forward and started, "Ah, Hagrid –"

"Beggin' yer' pardon, Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid cut him off, "but we hav' a problem. Harry's gone!"

Alarm shot through him. "What?"

"He's gone! He wan't in th' house. Young Sirius Black here di'n't know where he was either, so he off'red me a ride here."

It was then that he saw the figure riding in the sidecar of the motorcycle. A subdued, quiet Sirius Black. Albus carefully withdrew his wand. "Sirius?" he prodded.

"I didn't kill them, Albus," the young said dully. "Though, I good as did. And now Harry's gone too."

Albus stared at him. "I do not understand, Sirius. Explain."

Sirius closed his eyes and Albus could see the grief and exhaustion on his face. It made him appear years older than his actual age. "I wasn't the Secret Keeper," he said. "I was a decoy. We hid the real Keeper."

Albus nodded, but said nothing, waiting.

"We made Peter the Secret Keeper," Sirius continued, running a hand through his messy hair. "We figured no one would think of him. It was the perfect set up. Hide him away and let the Death Eaters come after me." He laughed bitterly. "Turns out they didn't have to. Peter led the bastards straight to James, Lily, and Harry." Albus saw him clench his fists. "I am going to kill that little rat," Sirius vowed, his voice vicious.

Albus didn't doubt him. He sighed and then said, "Come, my friends. We must begin the search immediately. I only hope it was not Death Eaters that found young Harry before Hagrid could retrieve him."

* * *

Albus stared at the boy seated in front of him. It was easy to recognize him as Harry James Potter and not just because of the scar that marred the skin of his forehead. Aside from his eyes and nose, he was very nearly the image of James Potter at that same age. However, there were marked differences. There was none of the cheerful, good-natured mischief that had been so much a part of James' personality. Instead, there was a closed, almost wary, expression as Harry leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingertips together.

"Harry," Albus finally managed to say, "I must say, I did not expect to find you here, of all places, but it is wonderful to know you are alive."

Harry nodded. "Thank you. Now, to business. What do you have to ask of the people of Sanctuary?"

Albus blinked, but then followed Harry's pointed change of subject. "I do not know if you are aware that Lord Voldemort has returned to human form—"

"We are very much aware that Tom Riddle has refused to stay a malevolent spirit like a good boy, yes," Harry interrupted. "Though we are a closed community, we still have sources on the outside."

Albus nodded. "Although the British Ministry remains unconvinced of his return, there are still those who have begun mobilizing for the war that is now upon us. We were hoping to ask the support of the leaders of Sanctuary. If you could allow me to meet with them –"

"You are meeting with them, Headmaster Dumbledore," Harry cut him off. "Or rather, me. I am the appointed representative and leader of those who choose to dwell within Sanctuary."

Albus stared at Harry, shocked beyond words. These people had put a fifteen_-year-old boy_ in charge of their home? What on Earth was going on here?

"He's telling you the truth, Albus."

He stiffened and immediately turned around, shocked that he had not heard anyone else enter the room. When he saw who stood there, Albus found himself surprised yet again. Sirius Black stood in the doorway, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

Sirius had not taken James and Lily's murders well, and Harry's abrupt disappearance from the scene of the crime had not helped. Once he was properly cleared by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of all suspicion regarding the fall of the Potter family, he withdrew from public life. His inheritance from an uncle left him well-off enough that working for a living was an option, not a necessity. When his mother died nearly two years later, Sirius reluctantly took the title of heir to the Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Once he realized that his resources had significantly increased, however, he had taken to the role a bit more, especially when he ordered the utter destruction of the chief residence of the House of Black, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. The Head of the Blacks, Arcturus, had been a known recluse for years and had not rousted himself to stop his heir. Albus had known Arcturus for many years, and had been surprised at the man's lack of action. Arcturus had always been a conservative man who held tightly to family tradition and dignity, but he had stood by and allowed the house that had sheltered the Blacks since before the reign of the Tudors to be destroyed by his vengeful grandson.

Albus had noted the changes in Sirius and had hoped that the young man was finally beginning to heal from the grievous loss he had suffered. However, shortly after Grimmauld Place's destruction, Sirius disappeared. His accounts in Gringotts remained active and there was an occasional withdrawing of money, but no one saw or heard from him. Remus Lupin vanished as well in the weeks after. When Arcturus Black died in 1991, Sirius did come out of hiding to take up the Headship of the family as well as the entitled seat on the Wizengamot, but vanished again almost immediately afterward, speaking to no one as far as Albus knew. It wasn't until after Sirius disappeared again that Albus had heard that Andromeda Black Tonks and her family had been reinstated to the house of Black, along with Bellatrix Black Lestrange being removed from the family ranks. Narcissa Black Malfoy, surprisingly, had been left alone.

Now here Sirius stood, looking hale and healthy and happy. In the same room as his godson, confirming that said godson was indeed the leader of hundreds of people from various walks of life.

"Sirius," Albus finally forced out, "what is going on here?"

The younger man just grinned before saying, "I think we ought to explain, Harry. Anymore surprises right now and we might break him. Probably wouldn't be good for the people Outside." The capitalization was obvious in the way he spoke.

Albus looked back at Harry in time to see him nod solemnly. "Fine." He waited as Sirius conjured a chair and settled into it comfortably, and then began to speak.

"The Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry were not the only group fighting the Death Eaters. The Department of Mysteries also had people working against them, people who were able to follow Voldemort and Pettigrew to Godric's Hollow and send for reinforcements. They witnessed what happened but were unable to interfere in time to save my parents. When Voldemort… vanished, there was a fire in the house. At the time, they did not know if there were any survivors, but they entered anyway. The fire was put out, and they eventually found me in my cradle."

Harry paused to take a drink of water sitting on his desk. "Unspeakables," Albus murmured, thinking back to those frightening days. There had been rumors of other people's involvement in combating Tom and his forces, but nothing that he could completely substantiate. Now he understood why. Although the Department of Mysteries' research division was under the purview of the Ministry, the lesser-known and discussed branch of the department was far more independent. It was not a stretch of imagination to believe that they were involved in countering Tom's unholy crusade.

"May I ask who they were, the people who found you?"

Harry nodded. "Patrick O'Neill, Thomas McKinnon, and Cassandra Malfoy."

Albus considered the names. He recognized them all as former students. Few Irish came to Hogwarts, preferring their own school on the island, a smaller but excellent establishment, but Patrick O'Neill had been one of the exceptions. Thomas McKinnon was another familiar name. The twin brother of Marlene McKinnon, he had not joined the Order during the first war, but Marlene had not been concerned, stating that her brother would not sit idly by in dark times.

Cassandra Malfoy, however, turned out to be the largest shock of all. Few people in society recalled that Lucius Malfoy had a younger sister. The girl had been sorted into Ravenclaw, clearly having no stomach for the whims and unspoken rules of Slytherin. She had graduated with full honors, the highest ranking student in terms of grades, but not as Head Girl, as she had turned the position down. After graduation, however, she suffered troubles. Albus recalled hearing about her father signing a contract to marry Cassandra off to Rabastan Lestrange. She disappeared soon after, and Rabastan remained unmarried. Now the mystery was solved. She had joined the Unspeakables, who had protected her from an unwanted marriage. Nothing more was ever asked about the girl once she disappeared until Abraxas Malfoy died two years later. Though most of the Malfoy fortune passed to Lucius, Abraxas had, surprisingly enough, not cut Cassandra out of the will. A smaller amount, though still considerable, had been left in her care for her to use as she saw fit.


	4. The Potter Triplets, gen

**Premise: **_Another 'wrong Boy-Who-Lived' attempt, this time with triplets. It too didn't get very far and I only have a few scenes._

* * *

**Part One: Far From Perfect**

In the eyes of one Harry James Potter, life was far from perfect. Oh, he was perfectly content in his home, Henfield House, with his parents, Lily and James Potter, and his triplet brother and sister, Hayward and Isabelle Potter. The family spent most of their time in Henfield House, though they did sometimes visit the small villa the Potter family owned in Italy, Honos Augusti. Love was never in shortage between them.

But outside the rosy little bubble of their family lay a source of extreme discomfort. Several years ago, on Halloween, 1981, the new cottage built just after the marriage of Harry's parents was attacked by the greatest Dark Lord since Grindelwald of the 1940s, Lord Voldemort.

None of the family liked to talk about what happened that night, though it was no secret to any of them, be they adult or child. No one talked about how their location had been betrayed to Voldemort by Peter Pettigrew, one of James Potter's closest friends. No one talked about how James had been incapacitated when Voldemort blew away a chunk of the stone fireplace. No one spoke of Lily's desperate attempts to shield her three children, tinier than most babies their age, with her body from a monster bent on murder. No one talked about how she too had been knocked out of Voldemort's path to the Potter triplets.

No one mentioned the Killing Curse he threw at the children, only to have it rebound and destroy him. No one talked about the rejoicing of a battered and heart-sore Wizarding Britain, who toasted Hayward James Potter as the Boy-Who-Lived, a boy who had delivered them all from evil with just a jagged S-shaped scar on his forehead to show for his trouble. No one talked about the lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead, or how Isabelle alone remained unscathed.

None of it was discussed among the Potters, but that didn't mean that other people followed their example. Hardly a month could pass by without the _Daily Prophet_ writing up some expose on the Boy-Who-Lived and his "heroic victory over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Then there was the Ministry who complained frequently that Hayward wasn't put on public display enough because his parents sought to shield him whenever possible from the glory-mongers.

And there were always the presents that came on their birthdays. Presents from friends, of course, but also from people they didn't even know. All of them were addressed to Hayward, who never ceased to be uncomfortable with all of the attention he garnered for something he didn't even remember. Especially since these strangers seemed to not even realize that Hayward had an older brother and younger sister who had also been in the nursery that night.

So life wasn't perfect for Harry James Potter and his family. But they dealt with it, just like everyone else did.

On the morning of July 24th, 1991, Harry didn't want to get up. He never did. He was no morning person. Still, he didn't have much of a choice when he heard his doorknob turn and two sets of feet pad against the thick blue carpet.

"Harry," a boyish voice whispered, "you awake?"

Harry didn't answer, hoping the voice would go away. He wanted to sleep.

"Come on, Harry," a different, feminine voice broke in, just inches away from his ear. "Wake up."

Harry groaned and twisted away, turning on his bed until his back was facing them. He heard retreating footsteps once his bed stopped creaking and he sighed in relief. Back to sleep…

… only to be splashed by ice-cold water. With a frantic yell, Harry leaped out of bed, only to fall flat on his face as his legs were still twisted up in his blankets. He looked up to see his giggling brother and sister, the latter of which had an empty glass in her hand.

"'Ward, Itsy!" he shouted, struggling to free himself.

Apparently his two younger siblings knew when to retreat, because they both quickly fled the room. By the time Harry was able to stand up, 'Ward and Itsy were long gone. Sighing, he looked at the clock next to his bed. Eight-forty-two. He might as well get up. If his nose was anything to go by, Misty, one of the family's three house-elves, was already putting breakfast on the table.

Grudgingly and already planning some way to get back at his siblings, Harry made his bed though he did remove the wet pillowcase to dry. He then went to his closet and pulled out a pair of trousers and a shirt. Tossing them on the bed, he quickly undressed and folded his nightclothes. Once he was dressed, he left the room and hurried downstairs.

Upon entering the breakfast room, Harry found he was the last to arrive, but that was hardly unusual. His father was seated in his normal spot, eating a piece of sausage while also reading one of the many Muggle newspapers that he subscribed to. Isabelle and Hayward were also there, both eating their scrambled eggs while glancing at him innocently. Harry glared at them both, but quickly sat down in a chair next to his mother, who smiled at him.

"How did they do it this time, Harry?" Lily asked him knowingly.

Harry took his plate and gathered a stack of pancakes. "A glass of water," he replied as he added the butter and maple syrup.

Lily shook her head, laughing a little, but still looked over at Isabelle and Hayward. "That wasn't very nice of you," she said somewhat sternly.

Hayward just grinned. "Harry wouldn't wake up and it was time for breakfast. We did try being nice, Mum. Honest."

Harry rolled his eyes and continued eating. The meal passed in companionable silence, broken only by the clink of silverware. Just as they were finishing and about to carry the dishes into the kitchen (the most that Misty would endure them doing without breaking into tears), a beautiful owl suddenly swooped in through an open window carrying a stack of letters. Another owl followed with a rolled up scroll that Harry recognized as the _Daily Prophet_.

Both owls rested on the perch that was set up in the corner of the room. James stood up from the table and walked over. He took the newspaper and produced a few sickles from his pocket, placing them in the small drawstring bag attached to the owl's leg. "You can rest here for a while if you need to," James told it.

Harry didn't pay much attention to that owl though. He was more curious about the other owl. His father usually had most of the mail delivered to his study, so it was unusual for anything other than the _Prophet_ to appear in the breakfast room.

James took the letters from the brown owl, thanking it absently as it promptly flew off. "Well, well," he said after a moment. He turned around and smiled at them. "Looks like we're going to be busy in the next few days or so." He came back to the table and handed each Isabelle, Hayward, and Harry one of the letters. Harry looked at the front.

Mr. Harry J. Potter  
The Blue Bedroom  
Henfield House  
Godric's Domain, Wales

Harry sucked in his breath. _Is this…?_ He turned it over and saw the wax crest. _It is!_ It was his Hogwarts letter. And from the squealing from Isabelle and the cheering from Hayward, it was the same for them.

"We're going to Hogwarts, we're going to Hogwarts!" Hayward sang, leaping up from his chair and jumping up and down in excitement.

Lily stood up from the table. "That's wonderful," she said, moving to hug each of them in turn. "You'll love it there."

Isabelle quickly broke the seal and read the letter. After a moment, she wrinkled her nose. "All it says is that we've been accepted and they want us to respond by the thirty-first. You'd think they'd provide some kind of information about the school."

"They usually assume that the parents will explain everything to the students," Lily explained. "It's only with Muggleborns that the letters are brought personally by a professor."

Harry nodded. He supposed that made sense. "When are we going to Diagon Alley?" he asked.

James laughed. "Eager?" he replied, then said, "We'll go on your birthday. Make a big day out of it."

"Can we ask Neville if can go with us?" Hayward spoke up excitedly, referring to one of the few children that had ever played with the three of them while growing up. Neville got along with all three of them, but he and Hayward were closest.

Lily glanced at James, who nodded. "We'll floo Longbottom Manor and ask Frank if he and Neville would like to join us. They can even come back with us for dinner and have some of the birthday cake."

Harry smirked while opening his own letter. "Misty will be thrilled to have more people to cook for." He looked the parchment sheets. The first one was just like Isabelle described, but the second one was a long list of required items ranging from the school robes to textbooks to the warning about first year students being forbidden to bring their own brooms.

"No flying for us then," Harry muttered gloomily.

Lily didn't appear to hear his utterance as she clapped her hands together. "Well, we still have a lot to do today, and we haven't even taken the dishes to the kitchen yet. Misty's probably wondering where we all are!"

Harry watched as Hayward tucked his letter into his back pocket while Isabelle, who had no pockets in her skirt, looked around frantically before finally setting it on her chair. Harry chose to follow his sister's example, putting his letter on his own chair before grabbing his plate and empty glass of orange juice to take into the kitchen.

As they walked into the kitchen, Harry asked James, who followed just behind him, "When do we get to tell Sirius and Remus?"

"I'll floo them later," James replied. Though Harry couldn't see him, he could still practically hear the grin on his father's face. "I'm sure the moment I mention your letters, they'll be over here in a flash."

* * *

**Part Two: The Perils of Diagon Alley**

On July 31st, Isabelle Margaret Potter woke up to her stomach fluttering nervously. It didn't take her but a moment to realize why: not only was it her birthday, but today was the promised trip to Diagon Alley. She grinned into her pillow before hopping out of bed.

Most people might find it strange that she was so excited about a shopping trip, but for her and her brothers, it was a real treat. Due to the security concerns and the people's incessant need to mob Hayward wherever he went, they did not often appear in public areas. Usually they just went to the homes of their few friends or, more often, their friends came to them. Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones, Padma and Parvati Patil were the ones they saw the most often.

* * *

**Part ____: Hogwarts and its Thinking Cap**

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry glanced wistfully one final time in Susan's direction before stepping up to the stool. Planting himself on it, Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head.

_Hmm, well, the eldest son of James Potter and Lily Evans. The one Albus hardly ever mentions except to say you are the most level-headed boy he has ever seen._

Harry rolled his eyes. He had little liking for Dumbledore, as the old man did little but harass his parents about how they raised Hayward whenever he spoke to them. Dumbledore shouldn't be making any judgments on his character, as he had never even spoken to Harry.

_Well, Albus has always been a bit self-righteous, hasn't he? Now let's see, where to put you. You're certainly intelligent enough. Rowena's eagles would welcome you. Brave and cunning too, so Griffindor and Slythern are possible as well. But there's something… ah, I dare say you'd enjoy yourself in Hufflepuff too. Helga loved her plants, just like you, and she was at her best when she had some difficult task to perform. What do you think?_

Harry didn't answer at first, considering. Then he thought, _Griffindor, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw only expect one thing, bravery, ambition, or love of learning. I can do all of that in Hufflepuff._

_And I have a friend there._

The hat chuckled. _Good answer, young Potter. And given what's likely ahead of you, what better place to grow and learn at your own pace without interference than…_ "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Grinning, Harry jumped off the stool and handed the hat to the surprised Professor McGonagall. Shrugging in response to the shocked look Hayward gave him, Harry hurried down to the Hufflepuff table and sat down next to Susan, the cheers of his new housemates ringing in his ears. She smiled at him delightedly.

Neither of them said anything, but turned to watch the continuing Sorting.

"Potter, Hayward!"

Harry wasn't surprised when the hat barely touched his brother's head before shouting, "GRYFFINDOR!" Nor was he surprised when the Gryffindor table exploded in wild yells and thundering applause. He shook his head when the Weasley twins jumped up and danced a little jig, chanting, "WE GOT POTTER! WE GOT POTTER!"

The Gryffindors were still so busy fawning over Hayward that Harry barely heard the next name.

"Potter, Isabelle!"

Harry leaned forward, suddenly anxious again as he watched the hat fall over his sister's eyes. Itsy was scary smart, she'd likely end up in Ravenclaw, but it would be nice to have a sister—

The hat didn't shout immediately, seemingly considering its options. Harry did notice however that Itsy's lips were pressed firmly together, just like they did whenever she was particularly determined about something. He laughed quietly, imagining his sister arguing with the Sorting Hat.

Finally, after several moments, the hat straightened up and shouted with somewhat less enthusiasm, "HUFFLEPUFF!" Harry's jaw dropped. Him and Itsy in the same house? How much luckier could he get?


	5. Petunia, Lily, and Severus, AU, gen

**Premise:** _One of the earlier ideas I'd had when I first started into the fandom was for an AU series that had Petunia being a witch along with Lily. I'd even outlined the series, going from when Petunia gets her Hogwarts letter until the Battle of Hogwarts at the end of the Second Wizarding War, followed by a brief epilogue. It didn't get off the ground too far, but I did have this scene._

* * *

Lily smiled at her, placing the last box down in her room. "I really appreciate you letting me stay here, Tuney," she said, pushing a stray strand of red hair behind her ear. "I promise you, it shouldn't be anymore than a few weeks. James is insisting that the house at Godric's Hollow be fixed up before we move into it."

Petunia leaned against the doorframe. "It's not a problem, Lils," she replied. "I don't mind a whit. Gideon, Fabian, and Dorcas are usually the only ones who come around here, so it will be nice to have some company."

"Right," Lily said, eyeing her knowingly as she opened up her trunk to start pulling out some of her clothes. "Of course, I'll try to make myself scarce when Gideon comes by and you two would like some privacy." She winked at her.

Petunia, however, just raised an eyebrow. She would have shot off a sarcastic reply about Lily planning to snog James in every room of the flat, but was cut off when a black, sinister-looking owl flew through the open window. It landed in front of Lily and promptly held out its leg. When she removed the letter, the owl took flight again and left as quickly as it had come.

Petunia watched as Lily opened the letter and read it. She grew alarmed when her sister's face lost some of its rosy look. "Lily?" she asked. "What is it?"

Lily looked up at her, something unidentifiable in her eyes. Wordlessly, she held the paper out to her, which Petunia took after she stepped forward into the room. She looked down at it, spotting vaguely familiar handwriting.

_Lily,_

_Please, I have to see you. It's urgent. I know we haven't been close these past few years,, but for the love of Circe and Merlin, meet me behind the Hog's Head at 3:30 p.m. If you don't show up, I don't know what I'll do. Please, Lily, please._

_S. Snape_

Petunia pursed her lips. Lily didn't talk much about her and Severus' parting at the end of their fifth year. Petunia had heard of Severus' outburst against Lily after they took their O.W.L.s, calling her a Mudblood when Lily had stood up for him against James and Sirius, of course, but Lily only got upset when the subject was broached. Petunia had learned to leave well enough alone. Now, there was this letter.

She looked up at her sister. "What are you going to do?"

Lily sighed, suddenly looking weary. "I… I think I'm going to meet him."

"Are you sure about that? I know that I've heard that the Slytherins are joining the Death Eaters in droves –"

"I know," Lily interrupted, "but if I can save at least one from that fate by meeting with him, then that's a victory unto itself."

Petunia rather thought that her sister was sounding a little too much like Dumbledore, but let it pass. Sighing, she nodded. "Okay, but if you're not back by three-forty-five or I don't hear from you, I will come looking Lily, and I won't be alone."

"Order members?" Lily asked.

Petunia shook her head. "No. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter." She knew enough to know that the four young men had no love for Severus and would deal with him by whatever means necessary. She didn't like this situation at all, so she laid down strict terms.

"All right," Lily said after a moment. "I'll send you a Patronus."

"Good." Petunia glanced at her watch and added, "It's three-twenty. You'd better get going if you're going to do this."

Once Lily had left, Petunia couldn't help but feel some indecision. Perhaps she should go ahead and call James and be done with it. There was something wrong with this entire situation. Severus had made his choice, and hadn't even attempted to approach Lily in the past two years. So, why was he contacting her now? It couldn't be for anything good for Lily.

Abruptly, Petunia shook her head. It was ridiculous. Severus would never harm Lily. He'd worshipped her since they were children, back in those easy days before Lily had received her Hogwarts letter. To do something bad to her would be like asking him to stop breathing.

And yet… still a nagging worry bothered her.

She straightened her shoulders. This was ridiculous. She wasn't going to go tattle on Lily to her fiancé. She'd do what any overprotective big sister would do.

She'd go and watch from afar, making sure nothing bad happened.

--

Petunia was very careful to keep to the shadows of Hogsmeade. Luckily, it wasn't overly sunny that day, so it was much easier for her dark cloak to blend in as she made her way toward the Hog's Head.

Slipping into the alley that led to the back of the pub, Petunia could hear the voices immediately. One was the familiar sweet tones of Lily, while the other were deeper, more agitated tones.

"– doesn't have to be like this, Lily! I've told you I'm sorry I don't know how many times! It was a slip of the tongue, and an unpardonable one at that –"

"Yes, it was, Severus," Lily interrupted, her voice colder than Petunia had ever heard it. "But while I accept your apology, it doesn't change anything. James asked me to marry him and I said yes."

For several breathless moments, there was silence. Then, Severus spoke. "What?" he whispered. "Y-You're marrying him?"

"Yes I am."

_"Why?"_

Lily sighed. "Because I love him, Severus. Why else would I?"

"Lily, please, you hated him not two years ago! How can you possibly _love_ him now?" he demanded.

"Because he grew up. Something I see you have yet to do. Now, I have to go. Petunia's expecting me at home and –"

"No, wait, please! Lily, listen to me! We can still do what we planned! You and I can –"

"Severus, stop," Lily cut him off. Petunia could imagine her holding up her hand to ward off his pleas. "That dream passed us by the moment you started hiding your forearms from me."

Silence again, and then Lily added, "Goodbye, Severus. I hope your choices –"

"_Imperio_."

Petunia's breath caught in her chest.

"You will come with me, Lily," Severus said. He then muttered in a quieter tone, "I hope you'll forgive this of me someday, Lily, but it's for the best. You and me together, just like we always dreamed."

_Like hell_, Petunia thought, utterly furious. She whipped her wand out and stepped further into the alley. Coming around the corner of the pub, she nearly collided with Lily's prone body, but quickly regained her stance. She pointed her wand at Severus, who had done the same.

"I don't believe you, Severus Snape," Petunia growled. "Willing to use an Unforgivable on the woman you have claimed to love since you were eleven years old! You sicken me."

He stared at her, his eyes narrowing. "Walk away, _Tuney_," he snarled at her, his voice soft. "This does not concern you."

"The hell it doesn't," she shot back. Inwardly, she also wondered how it could have ever come to this. Severus Snape using an Unforgivable didn't utterly shock her – Lily had told her enough over the years about the company he kept within his own house, and nearly all of them were Death Eaters now or soon would be – but that he would use it on Lily completely floored her.

Severus glared at her and raised his wand. "_Sect –_"

"_Expelliarmus!_" Petunia shouted, cutting him off. She wasn't familiar with whatever spell he was beginning to cast, but she knew all too well how vicious Severus could be. She wasn't going to give him a free shot, especially not after what he'd just done to her sister.

He dodged the disarming charm, his wand already moving to cast another spell. "_Bombarda!_"

_Jesus,_ Petunia thought, _is he crazy?_ She threw herself into Lily, knocking her to the ground and out of the line of fire, while at the same time shouting, "_Carpe Retractum!_" Several bins swept out from their spots against the wall of the pub and flew toward Severus.

No doubt the duel would have continued – and gotten more vicious – if the back door to the pub hadn't flown open and a semi-familiar old man stepped out, his wand at the ready. Severus whirled toward him, another spell on his lips, but the other man had decades of experience on him. Petunia didn't even hear the name of the spell he used go past his lips. A red light exploded from his wand and shot at Severus, hitting him in the arm.

Severus staggered, but didn't cry out. Blood started to flow from the wound, and he glared in their direction. Without another word, he Apparated and was gone.

Petunia's heart did not stop pounding as she stared at the spot where Severus had been. She was still in a state of disbelief, but began to shake it off. Now was not the time to freeze up. She turned back to her sister, who seemed to be shaking off the Imperius at last. She also recognized the old man who had come to their rescue – Aberforth Dumbledore. He was helping Lily to her feet.

Lily was pale as a ghost, causing her green eyes to stand out even more than normal. Her lower lip even looked like it was trembling ever so slightly. "T-Tuney?"

Petunia quickly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. Lily sunk into her embrace gratefully and began to cry. "H-How c-could he?" she sobbed.

Petunia didn't answer, just stroked her hair. The war was suddenly beginning to seem a whole lot closer now.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I don't mean for Severus to come off as an evil bastard here, willing to subjugate Lily to his will, so please don't think that is my intention. What I wanted to come across here is that Severus is desperate. He does love Lily -- albeit in a rather obsessive, unhealthy way -- and doesn't want to hurt her. I rather think he acted without really thinking, not that Petunia would see it that way. He attacks her sister, so she jumps in.

In a way, this will kind of set Severus up for what happens after he tells Voldemort the fragment of the prophecy that he heard in the Hog's Head. He begins to see what his actions have done to Lily. He tried to break her, and then he turned Voldemort loose on her, though none of those were his intention.


	6. The Potter Family Letters, postDH, HPGW

**Premise: **_An attempt at writing a post-DH, pre-Epilogue story. Harry and Ginny are married and expecting their first child, and during this time he uncovers a box of letters and other documents that belonged to his grandmother, Dorea Black Potter. Reading some of the documents inspires Harry to try to find out more of the family he never knew, but it seems that Death has done its job well. I really enjoyed what I have of this story, and I really hope to take it and expand it some day._

* * *

_**Daily Prophet**_** Society Pages**

**Marriage Announcements, April 3, 1949**

_Charlus Potter, Lord of the House of Potter, 88, married Miss Dorea Black, 29, the second daughter of Cygnus and Violetta Black, on April 2, 1949._

_Roland Macmillian, 39, married Margaret Crouch, 41, widow of Gaius Crouch…_

* * *

_April 2, 1949_

_My dear Cassiopeia,_

_I am sure you are shocked to hear of my marriage. I assure you, I did not mean to exclude you or the family, but let us be honest, do you really think Mother would have agreed to it? Even though Charlus is the head of his family, Mother would not have consented. Knowing that, I did what any good Slytherin girl would do: I went over her head to a higher power. Uncle Sirius saw the benefits of an alliance between the Potters and the Blacks, despite the ideological differences between our families. Cousin Arcturus agreed as well, and having the support of our Family Head and his Heir is no small thing. Mother would not have stood a chance if she had objected._

_I am happy, Cassie. It is strange to say it, to feel so without reservation. Charlus may be old enough to be my own father (I have told myself so many times, never fear!), but you know me, I have never had any patience for the boys I grew up with at Hogwarts, or any of the young men of our acquaintance. With Charlus, I have a companion who is my intellectual equal._

_I need not add anything about the marital activities that we engage in. Suffice to say that Charlus was very considerate, and very much knew what he was doing. I shall say no more for fear of making you blush!_

_Be not angry at me, sister! I have found my place in this world at last! I only wish you had the same happiness._

_I remain_

_Affectionately your sister,_

_Dorea Potter_

_P.S. Will you consider me beyond redemption if I say how I adore signing my married name?_

* * *

_April 15, 1949_

_Dearest Dorea,_

_Your prediction of Mother's reaction is correct. She was not pleased to know you had not only married without her consent, but had even gone to Uncle Sirius and Cousin Arcturus for assistance in suborning her. _

_I have done my best to calm her, pointing out the advantages of your marriage. The Potters may be idealistic fools – Mother's words, not mine – but they are one of the oldest families in all of Britain. Julius and Abraxas Malfoy may crow about how their ancestors came from France with Eleanor of Provence, but the Potters have been in Britain since before the Conquest, just as the Blacks have. I dare say that those words about the Malfoys cheered Mother considerably. It distracted her and she began ranting about how the Malfoys are such pretentious upstarts who think they're cocks of the first spring._

_Pollux and Irma, however, are taking it much worse than Mother. I know they had hopes that you might marry one of Irma's brothers, despite your claims that both were utter imbeciles and unworthy to call themselves Slytherins. Walburga cares little for any of it so as long as it does not interfere with her upcoming marriage to Cousin Orion (why Arcturus agreed to the marriage, I'll never know – inbreeding and all of that). Alphard is busy as always with his investments, but sends his good wishes to you. Cygnus and Druella also see no harm in it, though they greatly dislike hearing Mother's mutterings against the Malfoys. Cygnus and Abraxas are friends from school, I believe._

_Tell no one, but I did manage to get word to Marius of your marriage. He too sends his best to you and hopes you are happy. I dare say he is pleased that you, like him, escaped the house and its oppressive atmosphere. _

_Now that all of that is out of the way, I must insist that you tell me more of your married life, sister! I may be unmarried, but I am hardly celibate! I know what goes on in the bedroom!_

_All silliness aside, Dorea, tell me truly: does Charlus treat you well? If he does not, if you actually have traded one prison for another, tell me, and he will know the fury of a Black._

_Most sincerely_

_Your sister,_

_Cassiopeia Black_

* * *

_July 1, 1951_

_My dear Cassiopeia,_

_Charlus and I just received word that Druella has been safely delivered of a girl. Bellatrix Jeanette, another jewel for the Blacks. I am told that the baby is a beauty and that Cygnus is utterly besotted with her. I must say, though, I find it strange to think Cygnus besotted with anyone, but perhaps I am merely thinking of Pollux and assigning his mannerisms to his son. Charlus and I have sent a present for Bellatrix, a blanket of stars, as befits her name. Druella, surprisingly, sent us a thank you note._

_I heard that Cousin Cedrella is expecting another child. Young Arthur is barely a year old; I would think she would wait until he is a little older before having another. Aunt Belvina visited me yesterday and had much to say on the subject. Then again, she had three children within five years, so what can she really say about it?_

_Charlus and I are planning to visit Rome this winter. His joints continue to trouble him in those months, or so he claims. I personally think he wishes to avoid the constant meetings of the Wizengamot. Albus Dumbledore's star continues to rise, and it has been six years since he captured Gellert Grindelwald. People behave as though he did it yesterday and insist on giving him anything he asks for! Charlus thinks that if Dippet were not as good as he is as Headmaster, the Board of Governors would not hesitate to hand Dumbledore the keys and wards to Hogwarts._

_Before you accuse Charlus of any form of jealousy, let me say that I agree with him, to a degree. Dumbledore did a great service to the Wizarding World in stopping Grindelwald and imprisoning him in Nuremberg, I do not dispute that. That action hastened the end of the Muggle war as well, which was good for everyone. If I understand it, Magical Germany was leveled right along with Muggle Germany. However, Dumbledore's been made Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and there are even rumors that the ICW is going to appoint him Supreme Mugwump (though I hear that the Americans are hesitant to support such a notion). Placing so much power into the hands of a single person is never wise. Dumbledore is a good man, I suppose, but no man on Earth is a saint. Power corrupts even those with the best of intentions._

_Forgive me, I have strayed. We are going to Rome this winter. Would you care to join us?_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Dorea Potter_

* * *

_July 7, 1951_

_Dearest Dorea,_

_I would be happy to accompany you and Charlus to Rome this winter. Let me know the details and I shall plan accordingly. Mother will be quite content here to coo over her first great-granddaughter. If Walburga cannot stand it, she can spend the holidays with Orion's family. Alphard plans to spend the holidays with friends in France, I hear. _

_Bellatrix is a beautiful child, there is no doubt of that. She is, though, quite a screamer. She does little but howl and shriek, and Druella cannot stand it for overly long periods, so she hands the __brat__ baby over to a house-elf. Mother will hear nothing against the baby, however, and declares her to be the best baby born to the family since her dearest Pollux. I am not sure our brother agrees, as he tends to gain a rather irritable expression whenever he hears Bellatrix crying._

_It is times like this that I am glad I am a witch. I can easily put silencing charms up around my rooms so I don't have to listen to the child cry._

_I too had heard about Cedrella. No one in the family approved of her marriage to Septimus Weasley, but from all accounts she appears quite happy with her lot. Septimus was a year behind me at Hogwarts. All aflutter about Muggles, like his family's been for generations, but not a complete idiot. He does love her, and she him. _

_I don't think anyone in this family likes Dumbledore either. I have heard that even from his bed, Uncle Sirius raves against the man and his idealism for equality and all that. Cousin Arcturus handles most of the family's affairs now, but he says little of substance to anyone, except to maybe to Melania and she will hardly betray his confidence. _

_Do tell Charlus not to tax you too much with his complaints, be they political or physical. Tell him I will be most… displeased if my dearest sister has been inconvenienced or distressed. And no, you cannot tell me to stop threatening your husband. It is a sister's prerogative. _

_Yours,_

_Cassiopeia_

* * *

_June 29, 1959_

_Dear Cassiopeia,_

_Cassie, I am so shocked, I hardly know where to begin. I had never expected this to happen. The healers warned Mother and Father years ago, and Charlus' age seemed to negate any further possibility…Oh, I should stop rambling._

_Cassiopeia, sister, I am pregnant. Come next year, I will be a mother._

_I haven't told Charlus. I hardly know how to. We never planned on having children. Given his age, and what the healers told me since I was a girl, we never thought it was possible for us. Charlus named a distant cousin from Australia as his heir, but regardless whether this baby is male or female, this changes things immensely. The Potter line could continue._

_Cassie, come see me, please. I need you. _

_Dorea Potter_

_

* * *

_

_March 29, 1960_

_My dearest Cassiopeia,_

_I have a son. I am a mother to a loud, healthy baby boy. Charlus will hardly leave the room, he is so intent on the baby. Your nephew, James Charles Harold Potter, is doing very well today. He is always hungry, and is quite greedy when I put him to feed._

_Charlus has been utterly insufferable since James arrived. He smirks, puffs his chest out, and generally acts like the Gryffindors we could not stand while in school. He is so proud of his son, and likely already has his life planned out._

_Cousins Arcturus and Melania have sent us their congratulations, as has Cygnus. Though, I admit that I detected some envy from our nephew. He managed three girls, the third of which cost him his wife. To see me have a son on my first pregnancy must be galling for Cygnus. _

_Albus Dumbledore sent us his congratulations as well, but not even that could dim Charlus' mood, nor could the healers' declaration that I will never conceive again. Still, neither matters. I have a healthy son, and he is truly the greatest gift I have ever received._

_James Charles Harold Potter. Such a wonderful boy._

_All my love,_

_Dorea_

_

* * *

_

_August 1, 1979_

_My dear James,_

_I hardly know what to say, and I can barely write it. Your father is gone. The dragon pox was too much for him to overcome at his age. You are now Lord Potter, the Head of the House of Potter._

_I fear my time on this earth too is short. Young though I am for a witch, the dragon pox has weakened me enough that I shan't last longer, no matter what your Aunt Cassie says. I fear not even her great strength of will is enough to keep me here._

_Your father's absence is a cantankerous wound in my heart, James. It hurts more than anything else I have ever experienced in the past. I cannot endure this._

_You will go on, my dearest. You and Lily will continue to make the Potter family great, just as your father did. Do not forget, however, that you are also a Black. Most of my family has joined this Dark Lord, but not all of us have fallen so low. Remember your aunt. Remember Cousin Andromeda, who had the strength of character to break away from the family to marry the man she loved. Do remind Sirius of that as well. His family has a proud and noble history, he should not let the actions of the recent generations color that._

_I doubt we shall meet again in this life, my beloved son, but never forget how I have loved you._

_Be well._

_All my love,_

_Mama_

_

* * *

_

_August 31, 1979_

_Miss Cassiopeia Black,_

_It is with great sadness that I inform you that your sister, Dorea Black Potter, passed away on August 30. She will be greatly missed._

_Sincerely,_

_Lord James Potter, Head of the House of Potter_

_-_

_Dear Auntie,_

_Mama's gone. I don't know what to do… help me?_

_James_

_

* * *

_

_**Daily Prophet**_** Obituaries **

**LADY POTTER DEAD! KILLED BY YOU-KNOW-WHO? DRAGON POX?**

_Dorea Potter nee Black died on August 30, 1979. Details are sketchy, leading many to speculate that she was a victim of You-Know-Who. A statement was released that she died of complications from dragon pox. She is survived by her son, Lord James Potter, his wife, Lady Lily Evans Potter, Dorea Potter's sister, Cassiopeia Black, and brother, Pollux Black._

_Lady Potter's death was preceded by her husband, Lord Charlus Potter, on July 31._

_

* * *

_

Harry leaned back in his chair, staring at the piles of papers scattered over his desk. Letters, clippings from the _Prophet_, official notices, all connecting to his family. His grandmother and grandaunt had apparently kept up their correspondence until his grandmother's death. His grandmother, Dorea Black.

Harry shook his head. So he _was_ related to the Blacks, and the Malfoys by extension. Briefly he wondered if Draco knew it. The purebloods were always so aware of their history, and even if Draco wasn't, surely Narcissa Malfoy nee Black knew about her grandaunt who married into the Potter family.

"Harry?"

He looked up from the letters to see Ginny standing in the doorway, her long nightgown draped loosely over her pregnant stomach. He glanced at the clock and started. It was past midnight.

"Sorry, Gin," Harry said, standing up. "I must have lost track of time."

Ginny smiled at him as she moved further into the room. "I figured you would when you brought that box out of the Manor's study." She sat down in one of the comfy armchairs, her hand brushing unconsciously over her belly. "What did you find?"

He sat back down slowly, his eyes going back to the papers. "I haven't gone through all of it yet, and a lot of it's mismatched, but so far I've read my grandparent's wedding announcement in the Prophet, some letters between my grandmother and her sister, and my grandmother's obituary."

Ginny nodded and leaned her head back, her brown eyes growing distant. "I was only about five when Grandma Cedrella died. Grandpa Septimus died three years later, but I only ever remember him mentioning the Blacks once. Someone named… Belvina, I think."

Harry nodded slowly, then straightened when he got an idea. "Kreacher?" he called.

The house-elf appeared immediately, familiar by the locket that hung proudly around his neck. "Master called for Kreacher?"

"Yes," Harry replied, "how far back do you remember? I mean, how many generations of Blacks did you serve?"

Kreacher stared at him thoughtfully before responding. "Kreacher served Blacks for many years. He remember serving Master Arcturus when Kreacher very small. He gave Kreacher to Mistress when she marry Master Orion."

"Arcturus…" Harry mused, "My grandmother mentioned a cousin by that name…"

"Grandmother, master?" Kreacher inquired.

Harry nodded, "Yes, my grandmother was a member of the Blacks. Dorea."

Kreacher shook his head. "Kreacher not remember her. He remember Master Arcturus, Mistress Melania, and their children. Kreacher serve Master Orion and the Mistress, help with Masters Sirius and Regulus when they born."

Eventually, Kreacher returned to the kitchens, leaving Harry and Ginny alone in the study to sit in silence. After several minutes, Ginny suggested, "Maybe you should try Andromeda? She might remember Dorea, or Dorea's sister at least."

"Possibly," Harry agreed. "One of the letters I've read so far mentions Bellatrix's birth." He smirked. "Apparently, she was a bitch even as a baby. Screamed all the time."

Ginny scowled at him. "That better not be a hint of what our baby could be like, Potter," she growled.

Harry quickly held up his hands. "Not at all," he assured her hastily. The last thing he wanted was to sleep in the guest room.

"Good. Now, let's go to bed. This will all be here tomorrow."

* * *

Teddy's laughter as he zipped around the yard on his toy broom gave Harry a wonderful feeling inside him. Sitting on the patio while sipping the Butterbear Andromeda had given him, Harry paused for a moment to imagine his own son or daughter flying as Teddy did, just a few feet off the ground but interpreting it as a fast-paced Quidditch game.

"He loves that broom," Andromeda commented from her spot to Harry's right. "At the rate he's mastering it, I'm going to have to get him a Cleansweep or a Comet so he can keep improving."

Ginny, who sat across from Harry, put her glass of lemonade down. "Will we have another first-year Seeker on our hands?" she asked, giving Harry a knowing grin.

Andromeda smiled. "Who knows? Perhaps." She took a sip of her own drink before turning to them. "So, what can I do for you two? I think you came over more than to just visit with Teddy, no matter what he thinks."

Harry's eyes locked with Ginny's for several moments and she nodded at him encouragingly. Taking a deep breath, he started talking. "I found a box full of papers in the study at Potter Manor. I haven't gone through all of it, but what I've read so far were some letters between my grandmother and her sister, Dorea Potter and Cassiopeia Black."

Andromeda nodded, leaning back in her patio chair. When she said nothing, Harry continued. "I was wondering… do you remember them? My grandparents? Or at least my grandmother's sister?"

"Or perhaps even my grandmother," Ginny added, "Cedrella Weasley?"

The older woman didn't answer at first, her brown eyes following her grandson as he continued to dart around the yard. Finally she told them, "Dorea and Cassiopeia Black were my grandfather's sisters." She looked at them, and asked, "I take it you know the history of my family and how they dealt with members who did things they didn't approve of?"

Harry nodded. "Blasted you off the family tree."

"Exactly. Aunt Cassiopeia never married. Though we were all part of a cadet branch of the Black family, we were far from paupers, so I doubt she had any shortage of offers. Then there was Dorea. She was… nearly thirty when she married, well after everyone expected her to. I think everyone thought she and Aunt Cassiopeia would be spinster sisters together."

Andromeda took a sip of her lemonade before resuming. "Unlike me, Dorea wasn't blasted off the family tree for marrying Charlus Potter, despite the Potters being well-known as an idealistic, Light-oriented family. I was never sure why. Neither my parents nor my grandparents ever discussed it with me."

"I read a letter that said that she had the support of the Black family Head and his Heir," Harry offered.

"Ah, Sirius Black II and Arcturus Black," Andromeda stated. "Smart move," she said, "going over her immediate family's heads and straight to the people who her family wouldn't dare contradict."

"She was a Slytherin."

Andromeda nodded. "Most of the Blacks were," she told him. "With the occasional Ravenclaw, like my Uncle Alphard or Cousin Lucretia. Sirius was the first Gryffindor since probably before Phineas Nigellus Black, and let's not even mention the idea of any Hufflepuffs."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Sirius mentioned that anyone remotely decent was blasted off the tree."

"Not entirely true, as you can see from your grandmother's example. She was just cleverer than most of us," Andromeda said. "I do know that her marriage alienated her from many of her immediate family, but she wasn't disowned or any such thing. The Potters were too well-connected, and if I recall rightly, Charlus Potter would not have taken such an insult to his wife lying down."

Harry leaned forward. "You remember my grandfather?"

"I knew of him, and knew he had married one of my family members, but we were mainly on Christmas card terms with them," the older woman explained. "Though, I recall that Aunt Cassiopeia often left to visit with someone. I assume it was Dorea." She paused, and then added, "Though, I do recall when Dorea died."

Harry glanced at Ginny. "Really?"

"Oh yes. I had long been disowned, but I wasn't cut off completely from the family." Andromeda's eyes grew distant. "I was still in contact with my cousin Lucretia, Sirius' aunt. Through her I was kept informed of a lot of the family's dealings. Even before the announcement was made in the _Prophet_, I knew when Dorea died. Lucretia told me about how Cassiopeia got the news and promptly vanished from the house for a good week before coming back, refusing to say where she'd been."

Harry nodded. "My dad sent her a message, asking for help."

"Then she would have gone," Andromeda said decisively. "Family was very important to the Blacks, and Cassiopeia would have done a great deal for her sister's son if he needed her." She smiled sadly. "The Blacks may have held to the idea of blood purity, but family came first in a lot of cases. Don't be fooled by exceptions like Aunt Walburga or Uncle Orion."

_Or Bellatrix_. She wasn't mentioned out loud, but her name hung in the air unspoken.

Andromeda took another sip of her lemonade. "My advice to you would be to keep reading, Harry. Those papers you found may yet hold more answers." She sighed. "I don't think there is anyone left from the family that would remember Dorea or Aunt Cassiopeia. Narcissa would remember less than I, and we're the last of the immediate family. There are some distant cousins that carry Black blood, such as the Weasleys, but I don't know if they would have known Dorea or not. You could try asking Arthur."

* * *

Harry didn't get a chance to ask Arthur about the Blacks for some time. Not a day or two after their visit to Andromeda, Ginny went into labor and the box of papers was shoved far into the back of his mind. When he was presented with his son for the first time, Harry was utterly amazed.

Ginny, though exhausted, still managed a look of proud satisfaction as she stared up at him, holding their son. "Well," she said quietly, "you should take him outside. Introduce him to the family."

Harry dragged his eyes away from the indistinct features of the baby to look at her. "Are you sure? I could have them come here-"

"The healers will never let them all in here," Ginny interrupted. "Besides, I need to sleep a bit. I'm not going to get much in the future." She grinned tiredly at him. "Go on, Potter, go show him off."

Harry carried the baby out of the delivery room with great care, and quickly found the waiting room was full of redheads, along with the graying brown hair belonging to Andromeda. Teddy preferred to imitate his adopted family.

When they spotted him, everyone immediately began to move closer, only to be stopped by Molly and Arthur, who stood in front of them.

Harry smiled at them. "Ginny's fine. Tired, but good. She ordered me out of the room and to show him off."

Molly inhaled sharply. "Him?"

Harry nodded and held up the baby. "Meet James Sirius Potter, everyone." He looked down at his son. "James, meet your Grandma and Grandpa Weasley, your aunts and uncles, your god-brother Teddy, and his Grandma Andromeda."

James gurgled inarticulately, which immediately caused laughter from several of the others. Molly quickly scooped the baby into her arms and immediately began looking him over, all the while cooing at him.

Eventually, he was passed around, Ron and Hermione especially taking their time with him once Harry named them James' godparents, like he and Ginny had talked about. George even made the comment that the baby's destiny was already set, given whom he was named after, and that he'd be a great prankster once he was old enough. Those words had earned him a light smack on the back of his head from his mother and an eye-roll from his wife, who was juggling their two-month-old son, Fred, in her arms.

* * *

_September 14, 1955_

_My dear Cassie,_

_I just received word about Druella. Such a tragedy, dying in childbirth. I suppose it is fortunate that the baby survived. Another girl, I believe? Narcissa Ann Black? I was never close to Druella – disliked her immensely, actually – but still, it is sad to see her and Cygnus' three little girls left motherless. I wonder what Cygnus will do now. I'd offer to take the girls in while he mourns, but somehow I do not think he would agree to it. He shares his father's low opinion of me._

_I also heard about your argument with Cousin Charis. Did she really accuse you of having an affair with her husband? Normally I'd dismiss such allegations, but given your liking for married men, I dare not. Just what have you been up to while Charlus and I have been in Russia, sister?_

_And honestly, Cassie, if it is true: could you not do better than Caspar Crouch? The man is a borderline lunatic, almost as bad as Irma's brothers!_

_Speaking of Russia, Charlus and I brought presents back for the family. Yours is waiting here, as are the ones for Cousins Arcturus, Melania, and Lucretia. We also have something for Marius as well, but I am unsure of where to find him these days. Have you spoken to him?_

_Yours truly,_

_Dorea_

* * *

About a month later at the Burrow, Harry did get a chance to speak to Arthur. The women of the family had gathered underneath a tree, juggling lemonade and babies and chairs. Once they were settled, the men had all gone their separate ways. Ron had led George, Charlie, and Bill off to fly while Percy, Harry, and Arthur had gone into Arthur's shed to inspect a new piece of Muggle technology he had acquired.

"It's called a computer," Arthur announced happily. "It stores information, and accesses something called the Enter-net to let you find information too."

Percy chuckled. "I think it's called the Internet, Father." He gave his father a mock stern look. "You haven't been enchanting things again have you? Because that would be a direct violation of-"

"Directive something-something, Code something," Harry cut in. The three men laughed for several moments before Harry spoke again. "Arthur, I was wondering…"

"Yes Harry?" Arthur prompted.

Harry took a deep breath. "You know that box of papers I mentioned earlier? The ones I found at Potter Manor?" At his father-in-law's nod, he continued, "Well, some of those papers included letters between my grandmother and her sister." When Arthur stared at him blankly, Harry elaborated, "Dorea and Cassiopeia Black?"

Arthur's eyes widened. "Oh. Yes, Lady Potter was a Black by blood, wasn't she?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, and I was wondering if you knew anything about them. You know, since your mum was a Black too."

Percy cut in, "Grandmother Cedrella was disowned for marrying Grandfather Septimus, wasn't she?"

Arthur hesitated and sat down at his work bench. "It's complicated," he said after several moments. "Mum wasn't disowned immediately after marrying Dad, but she did pretty much become _persona non grata_ within the Black family. It wasn't until years later when Orion and Walburga Black came to take charge of most of the family's affairs that Mum, along with several other members of the family, was blasted off the family tree."

Harry shook his head. "I don't understand how they could do that, though," he said. "Orion Black was never the Head of the family. His father outlived him."

"That's true," Arthur conceded, "but when his wife died sometime in the 1960s, Arcturus pretty much withdrew from public life and everything was left in the hands of his heir. Orion did whatever he pleased for years, even moved his own father out of Grimmauld Place so he and his wife and children enjoy the prestige of the place. It was then that Walburga started purging the Blacks of the 'blood traitors' and other undesirables, including my mother."

Arthur shook his head. "I know that Dorea Black survived Walburga's purging, despite having married into a blatantly Light-sided family. Cassiopeia Black never married, and there was no reason to disown her. I don't know much more than that. My mother was from a different branch of the family, being a granddaughter of Phineas Nigellus Black through his third son, another Arcturus."

Harry nodded. "My grandmother and her sister were daughters of Nigellus' youngest son, Cygnus."

"The Weasleys and the Potters traveled in different circles," Arthur said. "The Weasleys had lost their seat on the Wizengamot generations ago, but we still maintained some wealth through investments and such. Many of those businesses left during You-Know-Who's first rise, which is why the family had monetary problems while you were growing up."

Percy nodded. "I admit, I had wondered about why we had such problems. I remember things didn't seem so bad when Bill and Charlie started at Hogwarts, but by the time the twins, Ron, and Ginny were all in, we were completely strapped."

"Yes," Arthur admitted, "it wasn't easy having five children in Hogwarts all at once. Father had divided the family money three ways, a third for me, and a third each for your Uncles Bilius and Gordon. The amounts were comfortable enough for a small to medium-sized family to live on, but a family of nine was another matter."

The older man shook himself. "But we're getting off-topic," he said. "I don't know if my mother knew your grandmother very well, Harry, even if they were first cousins. Being in different branches of a family plus marrying into families of very different social standing makes me think they did not." Arthur smiled apologetically. "I am sorry I could not help you more."


End file.
